Saturday, August 09, 2008

Saturday - a week after Pride

Ah, waking up on the sofa with strange dreams in your head. And then, like a watered down slightly lamer version of "Murder She Wrote", stomping around the house trying to put the pieces together of how drinking margaritas at Audio with Jake and his brother meant I found my bike in the living room. I'm never up this early, but after several attempts at possibly putting myself back to sleep, I realised, what the hell? it's 7.48 in the morning. there's wine in the fridge - wait, hang on, it's not pride so there's really no excuse to start that nonsense again. Is there? Luckily my housemate is well out of the house and I'm hoping he was already gone by the time I got in, otherwise that might make for another embarrassing round of stories, mainly consisting of me being a complete dickhead. Yes people, it's possible. don't act shocked. I dunno, I've done all the thing you can do when you wake up hungover - checked out all of my friend's photo albums on facebook so they don't go 'uh, didn't you see all the 300 pictures i put from that festival on facebook?'. replied properly to my mom's email which said 'hi how are you mom'. did a brainless scan of the bbc website to make sure nothing really IMPORTANT happened while I was asleep. because generally really IMPORTANT things happen when I'm awake and I manage to miss them for weeks. seriously. This is my favorite headline, not ever, but just for right now: BBC - Banks warned of economic worries : "The City watchdog tells banks to plan on the assumption economic conditions could be as bad for them as in the early 1990s." Wow. The early 90s were pretty shit. I think we should all be worried!
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Anonymous Anonymous said...

amy you have to check out a band called Bikini. they are fucking incredible! i think their myspace is but if not try searching google for '1234 bikini' i think u will really dig it.

love the blog!


12:53 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Yep. Those sodding early Nineties. I can't remember a worse time in modern history.
The least explicable thing that I found in the wrong place after drinking (though I don't believe margaritas were involved) was my jeans, worn the night before, folded neatly on the top shelf in the oven. Heady days...

1:24 PM  

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